


When All We Have Is Peace

by Raynecloud254



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 00:54:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 13,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16545686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raynecloud254/pseuds/Raynecloud254
Summary: Post season 2 when Clarke leaves.





	1. Raven

She woke up periodically through the night, either screaming from a nightmare, or roused by the whispers of the medic coming to check on her. Each time Raven opened her eyes, Wick- Kyle, was there; he didn't leave her side. Which is why she started to panic when she woke up in the morning to find that he was gone. Raven sat up, eyes flying wildly around the small space, until they landed on Bellamy; she felt herself relax.

"I told him to get some rest." Bellamy explained quietly, offering her a cup of water.

Raven nodded, grateful that he had done so, and stretched her sore arms. "You look like you could use some sleep too."

He just shrugged, but gave no reply. His silence made her feel like something wasn't right and that sent her stomach turning uneasily, however, Raven let it go; he would bring it up when he was ready. That was the thing with Bellamy Blake, there was no way to get him to talk unless he wanted to- or unless a certain blonde haired, blue eyed Princess wanted him to. Speaking of...

"Where's Clarke?" She wondered, straining her ears in an attempt to catch the familiar hum of Clarke's voice.

At the mention of her name, Bellamy stiffened ever so slightly and focused his gaze on something outside of the med bay. "She's not here."

Raven let out a confused laugh. "Well, where is she?"

"I don't know." Bellamy answered, voice low and cold, dangerous.

Her stomach flipped nervously, and Raven began to climb out of bed. "But she came back with us, I saw her...Bellamy we have to go looking for her-"

"She left, Raven." Bellamy sighed, placing his hands firmly on her shoulders to keep her down. "Clarke left."

Raven blinked several times to try and clear her confusion. Clarke couldn't have left. She wouldn't leave her people like that; Bellamy had to be mistaken. However, from the tired, turned around look in his eyes, Raven knew that he was not mistaken. The realization sunk in, and she would be lying if she said it didn't hurt, that knowing her leader- their leader- had abandoned them, she would be lying if she said it didn't feel like a blow to the chest. Bellamy must have seen the injured expression, because he squeezed her hand and shook his head.

"She needed to...try to understand that." He said softly.

"Do you?" Raven wondered just as gently. She searched his face, but found nothing but exhaustion.

Bellamy was silent for a few minutes, then he stood up with a defeated sigh. "I'm trying to." He replied before walking out of the med bay.

Raven stared at her hands for a long time after that, trying to see things through Clarke's eyes. Surely she would have stayed if she thought that they were still in danger, and they weren't in danger. Not anymore, and that was because of Clarke. Raven breathed in deeply, exhaling loudly and tying her hair back. She felt that same lost feeling that she had seen flickering in Bellamy's eyes, and knew that things were going to be rough without Clarke around to keep things in order; she guessed that was Bellamy's job now. She grimaced at that thought, and sent up a silent prayer that Clarke would return soon so that she and Bellamy could go back to leading together, the way it was supposed to be.


	2. Octavia

Octavia scanned the camp from her post, easily picking out the Arkers from her...friends. She didn't know if she could even call them her people anymore, if she considered herself one of them. Before the attack on Mount Weather, Octavia had been a Grounder, but she had chosen Bellamy over her people. Now she belonged nowhere. She was back to where she started; completely out of place. Octavia closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply to ground herself. When she opened them again, Octavia squared her shoulders and left her post. There were only two people that could make her feel like she was a part of something, and oddly enough, Clarke was one of them. Sure she was still pissed at Clarke, and for all the right reasons too, but sometimes being around the blonde made Octavia feel better. So she went looking for her. Octavia hadn't seen her since they had freed their people from Mount Weather, which was probably because she was busy in medical, treating all the wounded. She had to hand it to her; Clarke was dead set on keeping her people alive.

"Octavia, what are you doing here?" Raven questioned when she strolled into the med bay.

Octavia leaned against the wall. "Looking for Clarke, I figured she'd be in here." 

Raven's face fell, spiking Octavia's concern, and she straightened up. "What is it?"

She demanded, glancing around for any signs of danger, hand inching toward the sword that hung from her belt.

"You should go find Bellamy, I don't know where Clarke is." Came the older girls response. 

There was a hint of sadness in her voice that had Octavia's head flying into overdrive as she searched for her brother among the people in the camp. Had something happened to her? Was she hurt...or worse?  
"Bellamy!" She shouted, spotting him outside of Miller's tent. The two of them were speaking, heads close together, when Octavia jogged up to them. "Bell, I need to talk to you." 

Her big brother held up a finger, telling her to wait a minute, and he and Miller finished their discussion. Then he turned to look at her, a tired smile on his face. 

"What seems to be the problem?"

"Where's Clarke?" Octavia demanded, eyes searching his. She watched as they filled with a million different emotions, and heard him let out a short breath. "Is she okay?" 

Bellamy nodded, pressing his lips together firmly before scratching his ear. "Yeah, she's fine."

"Then where is she?" She pressed, not liking how vague he was being with her.

He threw a desperate look towards the sky, then met her gaze. "Clarke left yesterday- and no, she didn't say where she was going or how long it would be before she came back."

Octavia blinked once, twice, three times, trying to make sense of his words. Clarke left. She was gone. Still, it didn't fit right in her mind; Clarke couldn't leave, they needed her. Bellamy needed her, hell she needed her! Octavia looked at her brother, hoping that he was only joking, but from the helpless look in his dark rimmed eyes, she knew he was being serious. Octavia dipped her head, drawing in a deep breath to try and calm the anger that was beginning to boil her blood. That was the last straw. It was ridiculous, and selfish. How dare she leave when her people needed her! They were all counting on Clarke, they always counted on Clarke! And what did the oh-so-mighty Princess do? She ran and hid! Fuming, Octavia whirled around and marched straight for the tent she shared with Lincoln. He was sitting on the cot when she stormed in, snatching her pack from the corner and throwing on her coat. Octavia only paused to plant a swift kiss on Lincoln’s lips, then she was stalking out of the tent, out the gate, and into the forest. Clarke was coming back, even if she had to drag her back kicking and screaming.


	3. Bellamy

He knew that there was no point in trying to stop Octavia from going after Clarke; she was far beyond seeing reason, too focused on ripping the Princess a new one. Part of him even wanted to go with her, to try and convince Clarke to come home, but he couldn't. Bellamy knew that she needed time; he respected that and was willing to give her as much time as she required to move past everything; to forgive herself. He still wasn't entirely sure what happened in his absence, when he was inside the mountain, but from the way Octavia had spoken about things...it hadn't been good. Clarke had allowed Octavia to go to Tondc, and lied to him when he asked about it. She had put his sister in danger. Honestly, he had tried to be angry with her, but there had been this look in her eyes that stopped him, a look that assured him there was no way he could be angrier than she was with herself. It was that same look that had convinced him to let her go. Bellamy only wished that Octavia would understand, and allow Clarke the time and space to find her footing. He just hoped that his little sister didn't kill Clarke before then. She would catch up to Clarke pretty quickly; Octavia was a skilled tracker, and the Princess only had a days head start.

Bellamy sighed and ran a dirty hand over his face, effectively smearing the dirt and ash into his skin. He was relieved that he wasn't needed today. There was nothing to be repaired, no orders to be given to his people. Most of them were still in medical, or hiding in their tents anyways. He assumed that they would be grieving over the ones that were lost; today was dedicated to that. However, there were some happy faces around the busy camp. Kids reunited with their parents were sitting or walking around, catching up, celebrating being together again. It was a warm site to see; yet Bellamy was cold. It wasn't the fast approaching winter air, or the wind that made him cold; it was an absence. Her absence, Clarke's. She wasn't there to take it all in with him, they weren't grinning with pride. He was there, drinking moonshine that could peal paint, and she was somewhere far away, putting more and more distance between them with every passing second. As she went, she took her heat with her. He hadn't realized how much he had come to enjoy her fire, and now that Clarke was gone, Bellamy wished he had appreciated it more when it was always right beside him. Always flickering, giving off a comforting heat...and the occasional spark. Bellamy used to ignore those tiny sparks, back in the early days when Clarke was nothing but a problem, an obstacle. He would pass them off as literal electric shocks from her spending so much time in the drop ship around all the electrical wires. There had been hate between them of course, no one could ever deny that, but it hadn’t lasted long. Bellamy saved her life, and she accepted him for what he truly was, a broken man. Clarke had given him forgiveness for all the things he had done, she had lifted that weight from his shoulders; Clarke had given him a second chance. He'd wanted to do the same for her, but she refused to let him and that made Bellamy furious. Who was she, forgiving monsters and offering second chances, then walking away from her turn? He would have done anything to help her piece herself back together, why couldn't she see that? He would have done anything to protect her, to help her, yet she just walked away. Clarke had left him alone with a world of responsibilities, and no one to have his back.

With an angry growl, Bellamy tossed back the rest of his drink and trudged over to Clarke's tent. He hesitated before ducking inside. Never in his life had a space felt so empty. Most of her belongings were still there, her maps were scattered across her bed, and more paper littered the table in the corner. Her clothes hung from a broken off branch on one of the tent poles; they were still spotted with blood. It smelled like Clarke, earthy, slightly metallic, and some type of medicinal herb that she used to rub on her chest whenever her throat had started to hurt. The memories made him smile for a moment, then he sat down on the cot and rested his head in his hands.

"Dammit Clarke, don’t make me do this alone." Bellamy whispered, feeling the full weight of all the sleepless nights finally catch up with him. He shook his head, and decided that closing his eyes for an hour or two wouldn't be such a bad idea.


	4. Clarke

Clarke had intended on returning to Mount Weather to bury the dead, but when she had arrived, she hadn't been able to go inside. She'd turned away with tears in her eyes and continued on. Four days later, she found herself standing on the shore of a lake. In the distance, smoke from what she assumed was a village, rose into the sky. Clarke watched it curl into the air and slowly fade away with the breeze. She shed her heavy coat and sat down, staring out over the water in front of her with heavy eyes; she hadn't slept in what was probably weeks. Every time she closed her eyes, all she could see were the faces of the dead, all she could hear was the silence that their breath and heartbeats should have filled. Her fault. They were dead because of her choices. Clarke looked down at her hands; they were covered in dirt, but it wasn't the dirt that bothered her. Though it wasn't visible, her hands were soaked in blood. Grounder blood, Mountain Men blood- even her own peoples blood! Her fault.  
Trembling, Clarke crawled to the waters edge and plunged her hands into the icy liquid, determined to scrub them clean. However when she pulled them out, numb and free of dirt, she could still see the death that clung to her skin. A soft whimper escaped her mouth as she thrust her hands back into the water, rubbing them together to rid herself of the gore. The water did nothing but ice her skin, leaving her panting and chilled to the bone. With a frustrated cry, Clarke lurched to her feet and began to collect wood with her numb fingers. 

Once the flames were dancing over the wood, Clarke drew in a deep breath and curled her hands around a small burning stick. The pain was almost immediate, and she heard a scream rip itself from her throat; Clarke scrambled back to the water and submerged her hands once again, letting the cold liquid leach the heat from her burns. Tears streamed down her face as she lay there on the rocks. It hadn't worked; the blood was still there. Clarke squeezed her eyes shut and rested her head on the ground, breathing heavily; the faces rushed to meet her, staring with blank eyes, mouths open in silent screams. This time, instead of getting up and moving on, Clarke forced herself to keep her eyes closed. She couldn't run away anymore, no matter where she went, they would follow her. They would always be there; it was time she got used to it.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, voice catching. "I'm so sorry."

"Yu ste klir?" A deep, booming voice said from behind her. Clarke flinched, then she sat up, looking over her shoulder. The man was built like most of the Grounder men are: tall and broad shouldered. His beard covered the bottom half of his dark face; a light blue design curled around his left eye in a half circle. The man's eyes were narrowed, and he held a sword at his side. 

The man's eyes drifted to Clarke's blistered hands and he sighed. "Ai na fis yu op."

Clarke watched him as he knelt down and gently took her hands, inspecting them before reaching into his bag and pulling out what looked like an ointment of some sort. He was careful not to hurt her, but when she started to flinch too much, the Grounder handed her a leaf. 

"Jak disha op." When he realized that she didn't understand, the man made a show of pretending to eat it. "Yu." He grunted, passing it to her again.

"I don't speak your language. " She whispered, feeling ashamed. If only she had learned when she'd had the chance.

The Grounder nodded, tying a cloth around her burns. "You are from the Sky People." When she dipped her head, he smiled kindly. " Ai laik Kortei."

Clarke understood that and she shook his hand. "Ai laik Clarke."

Kortei's dark eyes widened in surprise. "You're Clarke? The one who defeated the Mountain Men?" 

The guilt twisted painfully in her stomach, but she nodded. "Yes."

"You are different from what I imagined." He murmured under his breath, his tone held no mockery. "You are a long way from home, and you have no warriors. What are you doing here?"

"I'm not sure, if I'm being honest." Clarke admitted, avoiding his gaze. There was no way she was going to tell him that she was running from herself.

Kortei slowly got to him feet, offering Clarke a hand up as well. 

"Come with me to my village. You look like you haven't had a decent meal in days." He grumbled, walking across the rocky beach toward the trees. 

After a moment’s hesitation, Clarke followed. They walked in silence for a long time, but she didn't mind, it allowed her to think, to continue her silent grieving.   
The sun was just falling behind the mountains when they reached the village. Clarke expected to be searched and stripped of her weapons, but the guards only nodded their heads at Kortei as they passed. It was a small place, and Clarke saw only a few warriors, the rest were children and the elderly. People gave her curious glances when she walked by them, some even smiled. Kortei lead her to one of the bigger shacks and knocked on the rusty door. It groaned as it was drug open, and an old woman stepped outside.

"Nemi, Disha laik Klok kom Skai-kru." Kortei said, resting his hand on Clarke's shoulder. She blinked; shocked by the way he pronounced her name.

The woman looked Clarke up and down, eyes fixing on her bandaged hands. "Em beda choj op. Yu fis em op?" She asked, pointing to Clarke's hands.

"Yeah."

Nemi turned her gentle eyes back on Clarke and motioned for her to enter the shack. "Welcome Clarke of the Sky People."


	5. Octavia

Octavia ran into the Commander and her group of warriors on the afternoon of the fifth day. The sound of horses and people talking, gave her enough of a warning, and by the time they reached her, Octavia was hidden behind a bush. Through the branches, she was able to see Indra on the horse closest to her, and a sharp pang rippled through her heart.

"Chit taim disha hukop ste odon?" Indra wondered quietly, eyes scanning the forest. 

Octavia bit back a growl at Indra's question; of course the alliance was over, Lexa had abandoned the Sky People. 

"Chil au. Oso don sad klin, ogeda hukop ste ifi." The Commander replied, keeping her eyes forward."

Indra's lip curled slightly. "Yu don sad klin." She corrected, voice strained.

The Commander turned her cat like eyes on the warrior. "Hod yu rein daun." Lexa hissed.

"Sha, Heda." The woman muttered, slowing her horse so she fell behind the Commander.

Octavia narrowed her eyes, but remained hidden until the Grounders were out of sight. She decided to stay a good distance behind them to be safe, but Octavia had a feeling that Lexa knew where Clarke was so she was going to follow them. She was glad that she wasn't the only one that didn't agree with Lexa's choice to retreat, that Indra disliked it just as much as her. The only difference was, Octavia was allowed to hate it, whereas Indra couldn't...not openly anyways.

She hated moving so slow. Keeping up to the Grounders was easy, staying behind them was hard. The pace she had set for herself was ridiculously slow, and she was sure that it would be dark by the time she made it to the village the Grounders were heading to. There were a few times when she was tempted to just let them know she was there, and ask to join them; Octavia already knew the answer though, and the pain from the reminder kept her sneaking around after them. She arrived at the village just as the sun was setting, and was stopped at the entrance by a guard.

"I'm here for Clarke." Octavia snapped, eyeing him dangerously.

The guard paused for a moment. "And who are you, girl?"

Her blood boiled and she bared her teeth at the giant before her. "Ai laik Okteivia, and I am here to see my Commander." She growled.

The guard didn't move, he simply glowered at her, a scare tactic that had no effect on Octavia. "She isn't here."

Octavia sneered at him. "Spicha."

"Daun pleni! Teik em thru, Jaikob." Indra thundered, storming over to them. The anger in her voice was enough to make the warrior shrink back and bow his head, stepping aside to let Octavia pass. Octavia narrowed her eyes at Jaikob as she walked away, falling into step with Indra.

"Thanks." She muttered after a moment.

Indra shook her head, still looking quite furious. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question." She fired back, irritated.

"Hod yu rein daun, yongon." The warrior warned.

Octavia chuckled darkly, shaking her head. "I'm not your second anymore Indra. You don't tell me what to do."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Indra flinch, and guilt twisted in her stomach. The woman sighed but said nothing as she led Octavia to a large shack. "Clarke is in there with the Commander. You can go in when they are finished. Until then, we wait."


	6. Clarke

She wasn't sure what she had been expecting upon meeting Lexa again; perhaps anger? However, when the Commander entered the hall, eyes fierce and searching, Clarke felt nothing. Even when those intense green eyes had fixed themselves on her, all she could feel was numbness. She watched Lexa approach her, making no move to offer a greeting. This seemed to unnerve the Commander, and she took on a defensive stance, studying Clarke with narrowed eyes.

"You look well. I'm glad you were able to free your people." She finally said, squaring her shoulders, however when Clarke gave no reply, Lexa lowered her head. "I've come to discuss our truce...the alliance." She admitted tiredly.

Clarke stood still as a statue, an icy cage coating her very being. "What of it?" She questioned in a detached voice, not breaking eye contact.

"Does it still stand?"

"I don't know." Clarke answered coolly. "That is no longer my decision to make."

Lexa cocked her head to the side, confusion clear on her face. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not in charge. You'll have to talk to Bellamy." She said slowly, placing her hands on the long metal table. "Now if that is all Commander, there are things I need to do."

Lexa stared at Clarke for a moment, then she sighed and made her way to the door. "Clarke, I'm sorry."

There was a long silence; Clarke felt nothing as those words hung in the air between them. The Commander's apology meant nothing to her, her words held no meaning. 

Finally, Clarke met Lexa's eyes with a blank stare. "Goodbye Lexa."

She watched the Grounder leader's shoulders sag in defeat, and push open the door. Clarke waited until the door was closed, then she pressed her fingers to her eyes in an attempt to relieve herself of a headache. She was exhausted. The night before had been the first time she'd slept in several days, but Clarke had been woken by nightmares throughout the night. She'd woken up that morning feeling more tired than before. The dead are gone, the living are hungry. Clarke tried to focus on that as she pulled on her coat and braided her hair back; she was leaving the village today. While Nomi had offered her a place in the village, Clarke could not accept. Death hung over her like a cloud, and she couldn't bear the thought of anyone else dying because of her. 

"What did Lexa want?" 

Clarke jumped and whirled around to see Octavia standing on the other side of the room. The sight of her made Clarke's heart throb painfully. "To talk about the alliance." 

"And what did you tell her?" Octavia wondered, coming closer.

"I told her to talk to Bellamy."

The younger girl nodded stiffly, hard eyes locked on Clarke. "Right, because you're taking a vacation." Octavia muttered, anger causing her voice to quiver.

"That's right." Clarke replied, not wanting to fight with her. Octavia already hated her; she didn't feel the need to justify herself.

Octavia made a disgusted, angry noise in the back of her throat. "You're pathetic, you know that? An entire group of people that are counting on you and you just leave?"

Clarke closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, bowing her head. She really didn't want to do this with her. There was no way that she could make Octavia understand, and quite frankly, she didn't want to try. However, Octavia was glaring at her expectantly, determinedly, and Clarke knew that she wasn't moving until she had an answer.

"I...the things I did, choices I made- people died. I killed them Octavia. The people in Tondc...the ones in the mountain...our people. And when I look at those kids, that's all I can see. I see the children that died in Mount Weather because I pulled that lever, and I see the destroyed city that I caused." Her voice cracked, and Clarke felt her eyes begin to sting. "And I know that more people will die. I'll make bad decisions and I can't handle that."

Octavia's furious expression didn’t waver, and she shook her head. "So you're a coward. We were at war Clarke, people die in war. And yeah, that was your fault, but that doesn't give you the right to up and leave your people! You don't get to run away from your problems! You get to suck it up and be the leader your people need you to be!" 

During her rant, Octavia had been moving forward, shoving Clarke as she pressed on. Now they stood toe-to-toe, Octavia glowering at Clarke, who had tears in her eyes.

"I never asked to be a leader!" Clarke exploded, the tears falling down her face. "I didn't ask to have everyone counting on me! I just wanted to keep us alive!"

"That doesn't matter anymore! They all count on you and you can't change that- you can't change any of it Clarke! So stop being a pathetic coward and do your god damn job!" Octavia fired back, hands slamming into Clarke's shoulders.

"I can't!" Came Clarke's broken response, and she buried her head in her hands. "I can't."

There was a brief silence, and Clarke waited for Octavia to yell at her some more; only she didn't. "It isn't about you anymore. It doesn't matter if you can't... you have to." Then she walked away, leaving Clarke in the middle of the room, feeling so broken and lost, she wondered if she would ever be okay again.


	7. Octavia

Octavia left the small village with a heavy heart, the empty, desperate, torn apart look in Clarke's eyes, burned into her mind. She had managed to tear down Clarke's walls, something that few people were ever able to do, but Octavia didn't feel a sense of accomplishment. She finally understood why those walls had been up in the first place, why she'd left after they'd saved their people...Clarke was broken. She understood why Bellamy hadn't stopped her from leaving; he'd always been able to see right through his co-leader, and he knew that she needed space to put herself back together. Octavia felt a pang of guilt deep in her stomach; she might have made things worse by tearing into her like that.

"Octavia!"

For a split second, Octavia believed that it was Clarke calling after her, but then she turned around and saw Indra approaching, and a weight seemed to settle itself on her shoulders. 

"Indra."

The older woman stopped a few feet in front of her; hand on the hilt of her sword. 

"The Commander has requested that you accompany us back to your camp."

"Has she?" Octavia said, crossing her arms. 

She didn't want to travel with the Grounders, she wanted nothing to do with them, but the expression on Indra's face made it clear that it wasn't really a request. So Octavia nodded and followed the Grounder warrior.

The Commander offered her a smile when Octavia joined them, but she didn't return it. 

"Lexa." Octavia greeted bleakly, mounting the horse next to Indra.

"Thank you for joining us Octavia." The Commander tried.

"Don't worry, I won't abandon you." She snapped, not taking her eyes off of the Commander. Behind her, Octavia heard a few gasps, and she felt Indra's fingers wrap around her wrist, but she shook her off. "Let's get going."

The journey was silent for the most part, and Octavia was perfectly fine with that. Every once in a while, Indra or Lexa would offer her water, but Octavia refused; she didn't want their help, she didn't want anything from them. She was aware of the anger burning through her veins, growing with every mile. If Lexa had stayed to help Clarke, none of this would be happening. If Lexa hadn't talked to Clarke the night that TonDC was bombed, Clarke wouldn't have let all those people die. No matter which way Octavia looked at it, every bad decision that Clarke made was made because of Lexa. Octavia clenched her jaw and shook her head; Clarke just needed to be away from Lexa, not her friends. If anything, she needed them more now than ever.

They arrived at Camp Jaha in the late afternoon of the next day, and Octavia lead them into the Ark, telling one of the guards to find Bellamy. She found Abby in the "Council Room" and quickly caught her up on the occasion of the Grounders visit. She was relieved to see that Abby looked as unhappy as she felt. Bellamy showed up a few moments later, and Octavia shot him a look before slipping out of the room to go and talk to Raven. She walked swiftly to medical, not stopping to chat when people greeted her, anger threatening to explode out of her. Thankfully Raven was awake when she barged into her curtained area, but Wick was there. He glanced up when Octavia came in, but the light smile left his face when he saw her.

"See you later Reyes." He mumbled, dropping a kiss on her head before leaving.

Octavia's eyes followed him out, and then she turned her attention back to Raven who was staring at her with a raised eyebrow. "What's your problem?"

"I found Clarke." She replied, pacing the small space.

"What? Is she here? Is she okay?"

Octavia pressed a hand to her eyes, feeling sick from the lack of sleep. "She's not here. She's not okay. And I'm not sure if she'll ever be okay again."

"Octavia stop pacing. You're driving me crazy." Raven snapped, sitting up straighter. "Sit down and tell me what happened." 

So Octavia sat down and told Raven about her conversation with Clarke, and about her thoughts on Lexa. While she spoke, she felt the weight on her shoulders begin to lift ever so slightly.

"I shouldn't have yelled at her."

Raven chuckled, slowly getting out of bed. "You're still mad at her, I get why you did."

Octavia shook her head. "We have to help her...before she does something stupid."  
Raven's head snapped up, eyes wide and full of fear. "You don't think she'd..."

"I'd like to think that she wouldn't, but the look in her eyes...I'm scared for her."   
Octavia squeezed her eyes shut and buried her head in her hands.

Raven drew in a deep breath. "Go get some sleep Octavia, I'll talk to Bellamy and we'll figure something out."


	8. Bellamy

The air was thick with tension, and Bellamy felt as though the walls were pressing in on them. He stood across from Indra, arms folded over his chest as he glared at her boots. Kane stood to his right, talking to the Commander in an upbeat tone, but the stiff set of his shoulders made it clear that he was not happy. The Commander was concerned about the alliance. The thought made Bellamy roll his eyes; of course she was. She had good reason to be, with her betrayal and all.

"Clarke said that the decision was Bellamy's to make. I'm here to ask him if the alliance still stands."

Bellamy slowly raised his head to look at the Commander. She was staring at him with those narrowed green eyes that held too many secrets. Clarke was leaving it up to him, she trusted him to make the right call. If Clarke could put her faith in the Grounders, then that was enough for him, yet everything about the Commander made him not want to trust her, but what choice did they have? They couldn't afford another war, not so soon after Mount Weather...not without Clarke. The pressure was increasing, pressing at the back of his head as he looked around the room. All eyes were on him as Bellamy studied the Commander, waiting for him to determine their fate.

"It stands." He confirmed, holding the Commander's stare for a moment longer; warning her. This was the last chance, if she failed, it was over.

Kane clapped his hands together in satisfaction. "It's settled then. Now, will you be staying here for tonight, or are you heading back?"

Bellamy didn't stick around to find out, he left the Ark in search of Octavia. She'd looked more stressed than normal when she had returned, and hearing Lexa talk about Clarke confirmed that Octavia had found her. The possibilities of what condition she was in were endless, and Bellamy felt a frantic worry building in his chest. Out there all alone, anything could happen to her; yes Clarke was fully capable of looking after herself, but even the best of the cautious slip up.

"Bellamy!"

Bellamy turned and saw Raven limping her way towards him, a pinched expression on her face that he recognized all too well. "Raven, what's wrong?"

"I was talking to Octavia, she told me about Clarke." Raven explained, fiddling her necklace.

"And? How is she?" He asked quickly.

The mechanic glanced away and dipped her head slightly. "Octavia's worried about her...she's scared that Clarke might do something- "

"Something to hurt herself?" He demanded. Raven only stared at the ground, and a crushing weight settled on Bellamy's shoulders. He shook his head, muttering curses under his breath. "What else did Octavia tell you- where is my sister by the way?"

"She's probably in her tent sleeping. She said that Clarke hasn't been sleeping, or at least she assumed that much. In general, Clarke isn't in great shape mentally or physically."

"We need to find her." Bellamy mumbled running a hand through his messy curls, meeting Raven's eyes. He was relieved to see his concern and sadness reflected there; relieved to see that he wasn't the only one. 

Raven tried her best to smile, but Bellamy saw through it. "Octavia will come find you when she's awake, we'll figure it out from there, okay?"

"Okay." He agreed, watching Raven limp away. 

His heart throbbed painfully as he walked around Camp Jaha, thinking about Clarke. The anger he felt towards her had slowly burned itself away, and Bellamy found that without the anger, he felt hollow. That same coldness that had threatened to consume him in the beginning had returned, and it was seeping into his veins; into his bones. And this time there was no Clarke to chase it away; he was alone once again.

Bellamy closed his eyes and shook his head, tipping it up to the sky, begging for whatever God was out there to bring her back safely. There was a slight shift in the wind, and he opened his eyes to see dark clouds rolling in. A sharp crack of thunder shook the ground beneath his feet, screams of alarm echoed through the camp and he heard his people barking out orders to secure the tents. He turned around to see Octavia emerging from her tent with Lincoln at her side; she was already shouting for people to get the supplies and the children inside, a protective fire in her eyes. He watched, as the Arkers stood frozen in place for a moment, gaping at them in disbelief. One man opened his mouth, a protest forming on his lips, but there was another clap of thunder and it seemed to set everyone else in motion. Bellamy hurried to help Jasper tie down one of the tents, but the boy threw him a dark look before storming off; he saw Monty out of the corner of his eye, watching Jasper with a sad look on his face.

"Monty!" Bellamy shouted. "Get everyone into the Ark!"

Monty nodded and started directing people inside just as the rain began to fall. Bellamy finished tying down the tents, and he started for the Ark when he remembered Clarke's sketchbook; the rain would destroy it. Ignoring his sister's protests, Bellamy ran to retrieve it, grabbing her jacket on his way back. 

"Why'd you go into Clarke's tent?" Octavia demanded once he was inside. He held up the sketchbook in answer before stalking off.

Several hours later, after checking to make sure that his people were alright, Bellamy found himself in an empty compartment. He heaved a tired sigh and sat down against the wall, listening to the rain pounding on the roof. The memory of the last storm played in the back of his mind, the ghost of his old guilt twisting his insides. This time was different, Finn wasn't dying, and Lincoln was one of them. Everyone was safe and accounted for. Everyone but Clarke. His eyes drifted down to the worn sketchbook in his hands, curiosity tickling his brain. She only ever told him about her drawing book once, after he'd caught her outside the wall the night after Charlotte's death; she'd been drawing when he found her. Clarke had shown him the picture of the little girl, then she had closed the book with a sad smile; no one was allowed to see her sketches. So with a smirk on his mouth, Bellamy flipped it open to the first page. It was a picture of their camp, before the wall had been built. Roma was standing next to a tree, looking up with a smile on her face. He let out a soft chuckle and turned the page. It was like he was reliving the past, watching the progression of their old camp with every page he turned. Not all of the drawings were of the camp though; Clarke had captured moments between their people, animals she had seen, and landscapes that must have taken her breath away. Bellamy smiled at a picture of Octavia sitting against a tree. Her eyes were closed and there were butterflies in the air around her. On the next page, he saw Monty and Jasper doing that weird high five thing that they used to do, with Finn laughing in the background. He felt a lump building in his throat, and he flipped the page; his heart thudded in his chest. She had drawn him. It was a side profile of him talking to Jaha for the first time. He was looking down at his hands with a small smile on his face, the headset digging into his cheek. Bellamy ran his fingers over the page, mouth slightly open in awe.

Bellamy flipped through a few more pages before finding another drawing of him; once again, he was smiling. He looked like hell, with all the cuts and bruises on his face, but his eyes were wide in disbelief and relief. Bellamy realized that it was the day of their reunion.

"Finn gave it to her." Abby said quietly, making him jump in alarm. "When he found out that she liked to draw, he gave it to her. That's why the first couple of drawings are on loose pieces of paper."

He closed the book and set it on the floor beside him. "I was there when he did it."

Abby smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I was surprised when she told me, figured she wouldn't want to."

Bellamy nodded. "Did you catch her while she was drawing?"

"No, she found it in my tent. When we picked you and Raven up from your old camp, I saw it near the medical area and brought it back here."

There was a short silence, and Bellamy stared at his hands wondering how Clarke could make them look so safe. He laughed quietly and shook his head. "She'd be pissed if she knew that I was looking at her drawings."

"You know her pretty well." Abby noted, sitting down next to him.

"I used to." He replied, his heart aching ever so slightly.

The woman dipped her head, resting her hands on her knees. "Could you tell me about her? What was she like down here?"

Bellamy winced as the ache in his chest increased. "Clarke was... well, she was our leader. I'm alive because of her- we all are."

"She said those things about you, you know."

He chuckled. "We were a good team."

Abby sighed and stood up, a distant look in her eyes. She started to walk away, then stopped. "I wouldn't look at the rest of those...they aren't good memories." 

Abby waved goodbye and left the compartment. Bellamy drew in a deep breath and buried his head in his hands, feeling the scabs and callouses against his skin, still wondering how Clarke ever saw his hands as something gentle.


	9. Clarke

Clarke grimaced up at the cave roof, biting her lip to keep in a yelp of pain as she adjusted her position. She could feel her shirt clinging to her side, sticky with blood, and the mental images of the bloody claw marks were not pleasant. The animal had come out of nowhere and attacked her from behind, slashing into her skin with its razor sharp claws before taking off into the trees. Clarke assumed that the animal planned on waiting until she was too weak to fight back, then it would strike; she just hoped that the storm had it hiding in a den somewhere. Maybe a fallen tree would crush it, or perhaps a Grounder will kill it on a hunt. She shook her head at those ridiculous thoughts, and focused on lifting her shirt without causing herself too much pain. In the fading light, Clarke was able to see that the wound ran from the top of her shoulder, across her rib cage, down to her belly button. She breathed a sigh of relief when she found that the bleeding had stopped. If she kept it clean, it probably wouldn't get infected. Drawing in a shaky breath, Clarke pushed herself to her feet and made her way to the cave entrance. She tore a piece of her shirt and held it out in the down pour until it was soaked through, then she sat down to clean the cuts. It took every ounce of her self-restraint not to cry out when the cloth touched the shredded flesh. Clarke dabbed as gently as she could, tears slipping down her cheeks. Outside, the thunder crashed angrily in the heavens making her wish she wasn't so completely alone. Once she was finished cleaning the wound, Clarke drew her knees to her chest, wincing when a sharp pain shot across her ribs. Gritting her teeth against the cold, she rested her head on her hands and tried to sleep.

She must have dozed off because when she opened her eyes again, sunlight was warming her face, and her hair was almost dry. Clarke sat there against the wall of the cave, staring out into the forest; she hadn't dreamt. Maybe it was because of the thunder, or the pain of her injury, but Clarke had slept the entire night without dreaming. She felt her lips twitch in an attempt to smile, but it felt strange on her face so she stopped and got to her feet. Her side screamed in protest, causing her to gasp and groan. Clarke rolled up her shirt and cursed; the movement had torn the healing skin and it was bleeding again. Muttering, Clarke let her shirt fall back into place, adjusted her coat, and started walking. She had a splitting headache, and the world around her seemed to be spinning, but Clarke pushed on; the memories like a never resting wall, forcing her farther away from her friends.

"You need water." She told herself as she crossed a small stream, wiping the sweat from her brow. 

The water was clear and when she dipped her hands into it, the coldness was almost painful. Clarke drank thirstily for a few minutes before sitting back on her heels. Despite being hydrated, Clarke's head still hurt, and the dizziness was still there. She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead and sighed.

The day seemed to drag on as Clarke made her way through the forest, the bow on her back feeling heavier by the minute. Hunger pains had her stomach churning, putting her in a foul mood. She tired to shoot a few rabbits, but her hands were too shaky and her aim too poor; by nightfall Clarke only had one squirrel to show for her attempts. Shooting the little animal had been an accident, she'd been aiming at a rabbit but missed and hit the poor things back. She wasn't complaining though, food was food. The sun had been down for a few hours before she finally allowed herself to stop and start a fire. Clarke hated lighting them, hated the idea of someone seeing it and seeking her out, but winter was coming and the nights were too cold to go without one. So she sat near the flame while her dinner cooked, staring off into space. She thought back to her first few days on Earth, how terrifying the forest was to her. Out in the trees it was silent, eerie and unwelcoming, she'd missed the constant hum of electricity from the Ark. Now the silence was inviting, comforting...it was lonely. And perhaps that was why she loved it so much, because it made her feel so alone. The silence punished her for the things she'd done. It reminded her of the death and destruction that she had caused. Silence was the aftermath of destruction. Still, she missed them; she missed her friends. Clarke found herself craving their presence, yearning to hear the soothing hum of their chatter around the campfire. Closing her eyes, Clarke imagined that they were there with her, that nothing had changed. She let herself pretend that the war had never happened and that the Grounders didn't exist. The image made her smile as tears slid down her cheeks. A soft whimper slipped past her lips, filling the air with sorrow. Clarke wiped at her eyes furiously, hating how weak she was being; she didn't get to miss them, she was the one who left them in the first place.

"You did this to yourself!" She screamed, slamming her fists into the ground. Clarke screamed again as fire pulsed along her side from the wound she'd received the day before.

"Clarke."

Clarke whirled in the direction of the voice, pulling her knife out of her boot as she turned, but froze almost immediately. 

"Fox?" She gasped, dropping the knife. 

"What are you doing out here?" The young girl asked, not coming any closer.

"What am I- Fox, why are you out here? I thought you were dead."

Fox smiled and looked away, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "I am dead."

Clarke blinked in confusion, taking a step toward her, stopping when Fox moved back. The realization hit her with an unforgiving force that knocked the air from her lungs, and she closed her eyes. 

"You're not real."

The girl laughed, and it was a harsh, bitter sound. "It's like Finn all over again, isn't it? That must have hurt...driving a knife into his heart. For you I mean."

Clarke winced and dipped her head. “I did what I had to do."

"Did you have to kill me too?"

For a moment, Clarke was speechless. She hadn't killed Fox, the Mountain men had. "I didn't...I didn't kill you."

"Yes you did. While you were busy playing house with Lexa, I was being drained of my bone marrow! You weren't fast enough, you couldn't save me!" She spat angrily. "You left us in there when you knew that something was wrong! How could you just leave us? How could you leave us there to die?"

"No one believed me!" Clarke shouted. "I tried to tell you guys, but none of you listened to me!"

Fox shook her head, eyeing Clarke with a mixture of disgust and hatred. "You should have tried harder. You should have been there to fight for us like a leader! You just let us die!"

"Stop!" Clarke whimpered, turning away from her, only to come face to face with Maya.

"You didn't have to pull that lever, there was another way." She said, eyes swimming with tears.

Clarke felt her heart crack even more. "They weren't going to stop." She whispered, searching Maya's face for some form of understanding.

"There were children Clarke. They were innocent."

"I'm sorry." Clarke whispered, voice breaking.

"You sent Bellamy in there alone! You risked his life without a second thought!" Fox raged from behind her.

Clarke felt a sob rip itself out of her throat and she clutched at her head, willing the hallucinations away. They're unforgiving voices echoed around her in a deafening roar, and it wasn't long before Clarke was screaming along with them. Her fingers dug into the earth as she wailed, thinking that maybe, just maybe she could rid herself of the guilt if she screamed loud enough. The wound on her side had torn open again, and she could feel the blood soaking into her shirt and smearing over her skin. Part of her knew that she should do something to fix it, but the dead stood around her, the weight of their presence crushing her. They're hollow, haunting voices chanting in her ears.

Murderer  
Murderer  
Murderer

"Stop!" She shouted, leaping to her feet, but no one was there. 

Clarke looked around with wild eyes, her entire body quivering. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire, and the erratic pounding of her heart. She drew in a trembling breath and ran a hand through her hair before settling down beside the small fire and letting oblivion take her.


	10. Bellamy

Bellamy sighed for what must have been the millionth time that hour and rubbed his tired eyes. Once again he found himself staring at the drawing of himself. The picture had worked a new hole in his heart, and it throbbed each time Bellamy looked at the paper, yet he couldn't bring himself to close the sketchbook and put it away. He wished he could put it far away and erase it all from his mind. Bellamy felt the hatred thrumming through his veins as his thoughts strayed back to Clarke as they always did, ever since she left him. He hated her for leaving, hated her for not taking him with her...hated her for not caring. The hatred was always accompanied by guilt, because he knew that he was being selfish, Clarke had needed to leave them. She was broken, perhaps beyond repair, and staying with her people- with him- would have only shattered her more. The pieces had almost been tangible when she'd hugged him goodbye, sharp and angry pieces. Her eyes had held an emptiness that still haunted his nightmares. And there was nothing he could have done to make it any better; he couldn't save her.

"Bell?" Octavia wondered, poking her head into Clarke's tent.

Bellamy glanced up at his sister, taking in the dark circles under her eyes; he wasn't the only one not sleeping these days. "Everything okay?"

"Lincoln said that one of the Grounder scouts spotted Clarke heading towards the ocean yesterday. I figured you'd want to know." Octavia said softly.

"Did they say anything else?" He asked, feeling his heart speed up.

Octavia shook her head. "Just that she is on her way to the sea. She isn't moving very fast... We could meet her there if you want."

"She wouldn't want that." Bellamy whispered, resting his head in his hands.

A small hand fell on his shoulder, and he felt Octavia standing in front of him. "It doesn't matter what she wants anymore."

"She needs to put herself back together, we can't help her do that. Clarke doesn't want our help." He muttered, feeling helpless.

"She needs us Bellamy. Clarke can't do this on her own."

Bellamy drew in a deep breath and met his sister’s eyes. Octavia was right, of course she was. Clarke needed them; she needed her family. 

"We leave tomorrow."

Octavia offered him one of her rare smiles before ducking out of the tent, leaving Bellamy alone in Clarke's little tent.


	11. Octavia

The stars seemed brighter than usual as Octavia made her way around Camp Jaha. She could feel a sort of nervous tension in the air as she walked, but that was how things were now; everyone was nervous, especially the kids they had rescued from Mount Weather. Octavia sighed and went to return to hers and Lincoln's tent, when a silhouette caught her eye, and she turned to see Jasper leaning against the side of the Ark. His head was tilted back resting against the metal, in the moonlight she could see that there were tears sliding down his cheeks. Octavia felt a pang of sympathy for him, and she approached Jasper slowly. His eyes snapped open when he heard her, and he turned his head away to wipe his eyes. Octavia pretended not to notice as she sat down next to Jasper, letting out an exhausted sigh.

"Can't sleep either?" Jasper wondered after a minute or two of silence.

"I don't exactly trust Abby's people to keep us safe." She responded coolly. 

He dipped his head in agreement, staring off into the distance. Octavia studied him in silence, watching the way his jaw would clench and his face would suddenly drain of color for a second. The sight tore at her heart.

Jasper shook his head and glanced over at her. "I don't think I can forgive her." He whispered, looking down at his hands. "I mean, I'm glad we got out and a lot of that is thanks to Clarke...but..."

"But she killed Maya."

His eyes slipped shut and Jasper nodded. "There had to have been another way."

Octavia dipped her head, knowing full well that there hadn't been another way at the time. There hadn't been any time to come up with a better solution, but of course Jasper couldn't accept that. It was the one thing he and Clarke had in common these days. "She did the best she could Jasper."

"It wasn't good enough." Jasper managed to choke out.

Octavia sighed once again and turned to look him in the eye. "Tomorrow, we are going to bring her back and honestly, whatever hatred and anger you are feeling toward her right now, I can assure you that it is nothing compared to how she is feeling about herself. I'm not asking you to love her again, but I am asking you to try your best to forgive her. She needs us Jasper."

Jasper didn't say anything as she got to her feet and made her way to her tent. It wasn't until she was tucked safely in Lincoln's arms that Octavia realized just how similar her conversation with Jasper had been to the one she'd had with Clarke in the mines.


	12. Clarke

Clarke was lost. She'd been wandering- stumbling really- through the forest for days, and she still hadn't reached the sea. The Grounder elder had told her that the ocean was a seven-day journey from their village; that was nine days ago. Wiping the sweat from her eyes, Clarke took another look at the map had drawn her, but it didn't help. None of the landmarks were the same, and she hadn't passed a lake in several days. Clarke knew that if she could find a river, it would take her to the ocean, but she was too exhausted to go searching in the thicker trees. Biting her lip to keep from screaming, Clarke decided to keep moving...she didn't want them catching up to her again. It had started with Fox, Maya, and Dante…but as she wandered further, more ghosts appeared. She could feel their eyes on her as she walked, burning holes into her skin with their angry stares. They were a constant presence, following her wherever she went. Sometimes they spoke, words meant to cut deep, other times they simply watched her with empty eyes. Her wound throbbed painfully the more she pushed herself, but Clarke refused to stop, even if the pain made her dizzy. She couldn't stop; she could never stop.

By nightfall, Clarke's feet were dragging and her hair was soaked with sweat. They had caught up to her, and she could feel their breath on her neck as she staggered forward. They whispered cruel, angry things in her ear, adding more weight to the universe that rested on her shoulders. Clarke tried her best to block it out, to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, but their voices were too close and too sharp to ignore. She drew in a shaky breath, lifting her hand to wipe her face, but there was a gun and her finger was on the trigger. Clarke gasped and dropped the gun, taking a few steps back; behind her, they laughed.

"I left my gun at the village." She whispered, shutting her eyes tightly. "It's not real."

"Yet, there it is right in front of you." Dante snickered, coming to stand beside her.

Clarke shook her head. "You're not real. None of you are real!"

There was a chorus of laughs and she felt a hand curl around her wrist. "Then why are we here? We're just as real as you, as that gun." Fox hissed, tightening her grip on Clarke's wrist until it hurt.

"No. It's not real." Clarke whimpered, looking up at the stars.

"Why don't you find out?" Maya wondered, holding the weapon out to Clarke. She hesitated a moment before taking it. Her hands were trembling as she lifted it to her head; tears fell down her cheeks but she didn't take her eyes off of Maya. The other girl just stared back at her with sad eyes.

"You're hesitating Clarke, you didn't hesitate when you shot me." Dante sneered, kneeling in front of her.

Clarke took a sobbing breath. 

"I'm weak." She spat, hands vibrating. 

Her eyes drifted to the stars once again, and Clarke exhaled sharply, squeezing the trigger as she did. There was a harsh click, but nothing happened. The air around her seemed still, and there was a heavy silence that threatened to crush her; they were gone and so was the gun. Clarke slowly got to her feet, dragging in deep breaths to keep the sobs at bay. Her face was slick with tears that tasted of salt and dirt. She glanced around, not sure where to go from there; her whole body was trembling violently making it difficult to stay standing. Clarke could hear voices somewhere to her left, and she wanted to scream for them to leave her alone, but screaming never worked and she was far too tired. They were saying her name, drawing nearer, and getting louder. Clarke took another step, but her foot snagged on a stump and she fell face first in the dirt.

Hands wrapped around her arms, lifting her to her feet. Clarke frowned in confusion; their hands were never gentle. She turned her head to her right and gasped.

"Lincoln?"

The Grounder offered her a soft, careful smile and nodded. "Yes."

A wave of horror washed over Clarke and she struggled to find her voice. "How are you here? You can't be here. It's not real...you're not real!"

"Clarke this is real, I'm here." He said gripping her shoulders.

Clarke shook her head violently. "No. No, you can't. You're not here, I'm alone."

Lincoln sighed, studying her more closely. He placed his hand on her forehead and swore under his breath. "You're feverish. Come on, we'll get you back to camp and Octavia can take a look at you."

"Octavia? She's not here. It’s not real." Clarke whispered, head rolling backward. Black spots danced across her vision as she fought to remain conscious.

Lincoln kept moving, guiding Clarke as he walked. "We came looking for you, Bellamy's there too. You'll see them in a minute."

They walked in relative silence for a while, Clarke stumbling behind Lincoln as she muttered to herself. He wasn’t real, he was just another one of her hallucinations; a cruel trick that her mind was playing to make her hate herself even more than she already did. Eventually she would blink and he would be gone, and she would be alone again. Clarke chuckled darkly and tried to ignore the nagging feeling that perhaps she was seeing Lincoln because he was dead too, that maybe the rest of the ghosts were exactly that, ghosts come back to haunt her. The thought chilled her to the bone and she suppressed a shiver as she and Lincoln approached a small fire. Two figures sat with their backs to them, the familiar low hum of their voices washing over Clarke like a warm breeze before the cold settled back in and she reminded herself that they weren’t real. Lincoln announced their presence and Clarke held her breath as Octavia turned to look at her. Clarke attempted to smile but it still felt wrong on her lips so she settled for a quick nod before turning her attention to the third person. He was staring at her with a guarded expression on his face that made her uneasy. Bellamy approached her slowly; almost as if he wasn't convinced that she was real, and Clarke felt her heart break even more because of course her hallucination of Bellamy would look at her like that. He stopped once their boots were touching, and she watched his jaw work the way it did when he didn’t know what to say. Clarke reached out to touch him but then thought better of it, and dropped her hand; she wouldn't be able to stomach his rejection…no matter how much she deserved it.

"It's good to see you." He said after a few seconds of silence. His voice was cold and detached, indicating that it actually was not good to see her.

Clarke looked up to meet his gaze, noticing that the usual fire in his eyes was gone. She opened her mouth to respond, to say anything that might bring that fire back, but she knew there was nothing she could say to fix it. He wasn’t real, and that was her cross to bear, he could never forgive her.


	13. Bellamy

"So tell me again, why are we going to the ocean? The mission was to find Clarke, and we found her." Bellamy grumbled, falling into step beside Lincoln.

The Grounder’s lips twitched up into an amused smile and he cast a sideways glance at Bellamy, but said nothing. Bellamy scowled and adjusted the gun at his side. His eyes drifted to Clarke, where she was walking a few steps ahead of him. Her fists were clenched at her sides, and he couldn't help but notice the nervous hesitation in her step. The slightest sound had her head whipping in every direction, looking for any signs of danger, and she was constantly muttering under her breath, like she was talking to someone that he couldn’t see. He took in the way her shoulders were slumped in defeat, yet tensed.... as if there were a crushing weight on them. It hurt to look at her. It hurt more than he thought it would, because up until she had stumbled back into his life two nights ago, Bellamy had convinced himself that he wasn’t angry with her for leaving. He had told himself that she needed her space and that he needed to let her go, but he hadn’t realized how painful and impossible it was. He hadn’t let himself be mad he hadn’t let himself be hurt, but all those feelings had come rushing to the surface when he saw her standing in front of him that night.

"We're close! Can you smell the salt Bell?" Octavia beamed several hours later.  
The smile and genuine excitement on her face made Bellamy chuckle; it had been so long since he'd seen that child like wonder in her. 

"It smells great, O."

He watched his little sister stretch up on her toes and plant a kiss on Lincoln's cheek. 

"I'll race you." She grinned. 

The two of them took of running, leaving Bellamy alone with Clarke. She kept walking, not looking back to see if he was coming, quietly muttering to herself. In the distance, he could hear Octavia's laughter, and the sound caused him to walk a bit faster until he and Clarke were side by side. Bellamy noticed how she seemed to relax a little, but the blankness didn't leave her pale face until they passed the tree line and the ocean was in front of them. Clarke's blue eyes widened and her lips parted as she drew in a breath. Bellamy wanted to see what she was seeing, but he couldn't bring himself to look away from the girl standing next to him. He was broken out of his trance when she began to make her way to the water, and Bellamy took in the scenery. The ocean was beautiful, breath taking. They had been right to come, he only wished the rest of their people could see it too.

"Clarke where are you going?" He heard Octavia ask, the concern in her voice making him turn around to face them. 

Clarke didn't look back as she stumbled into the trees. Bellamy sighed and went after her.

"Hey where are you going?" He wondered as he followed her deeper into the forest.

Clarke collapsed against a tree and took a shuddering breath. Bellamy stood in front of her, hands on his hips, studying her. Clarke's hands were shaking and it looked like she was having difficulties breathing. 

"Clarke, are you okay?" He said gently, crouching down to get a better look at her as concern distracted him from his anger.

She turned her head away from him and covered her face with her hands. "Just give me a minute."

Clarke's body began to shake, and strange little gasping noises were escaping her mouth. Bellamy reached out and rested his hand on her knee. She recoiled from his touch with a sharp gasp, as a tremor rocked her small frame. Slowly she turned and looked at him with tear filled eyes. She looked so empty, and it terrified him. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to hold her to him and reassure her that everything was going to be okay, he wanted to fix all the broken pieces until she was the same girl she had been when they first landed on the ground.

“Talk to me princess, what’s wrong?” Bellamy whispered.

She didn’t answer for what felt like ages but when she finally spoke, her voice so quiet and broken, he felt his heart break. 

“You're not real.”

It all made sense to him then, the way she watched them as though she was waiting for them to disappear, the way she had barely said more than two words since Lincoln had brought her to them, or the way she was always muttering to herself. She thought they were hallucinations. The realization had him speechless, and he felt the anger bubbling under the sorrow, because how could he have been so selfish? How did he not notice it before? There must have been signs that she was cracking under the weight of the universe, and he had missed them. How had he missed them? Bellamy wrapped both of her hands in his and sat down beside her, holding tighter when she tried to pull away, and met her eyes.

"Listen to me, this is real. You hear me? I’m real, Clarke.” He spoke slowly, watching tears well up in her blue eyes as his words washed over her.

"Bellamy...." Clarke managed to choke out before the sobs took over.

"We’re really here with you, we aren’t going anywhere.” Bellamy assured her, squeezing her hands. 

Clarke shook her head violently, splattering tears on Bellamy's neck. "I don't want to do this anymore. I can't do it."

Bellamy felt ice trickle down his spine as the meaning behind her words sunk in. "Don't say that. Don't you ever, ever say that! You’re going to get through this, we’ll figure it out together okay?”

"Bell-"

"No. Tell me you understand." Bellamy demanded, eyes locked on hers.

Clarke stared at him for a while as the tears rolled down her face. Bellamy was about to yell at her again when she finally closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath. 

"I understand."


	14. Octavia

Octavia listened in both amazement and amusement as Clarke and Bellamy fought. Again. Even when they were fighting, there was never any malice behind their words. Bellamy wanted to return to Camp Jaha, Clarke didn't. It was obvious that she wasn't ready to go back, to face her people, yet Bellamy seemed unfazed by it. Octavia could sympathize with him though, none of them had properly showered in well over two weeks, or had a decent meal since they left camp; she didn't even know when Clarke ate last. She had been distant and quiet, an unusual thing for Clarke whose presence was always immediate and vocal. Octavia found herself studying the blonde haired girl, noticing how her clothing seemed to hang off of her body, catching on the sharp angles of her now prominent bones. She walked as though she was caving in on herself, and there was a nervous tremor to her right hand that hadn't been there before the war. And even though they had managed to convince Clarke that they weren’t hallucinations, she could tell that the older girl was struggling to decide what was real and what wasn’t. Octavia wondered if Bellamy could see just how broken the princess really was.

"If you want to go back so bad, then go!" Clarke snapped, shooting a glare at Bellamy.

Bellamy threw up his hands and sighed angrily. "How many times do I have to say it? We aren't going without you!"

"Then I guess you're staying out here."

"We hiked around in the forest for eleven days looking for you!"

Octavia bit back a giggle when Clarke stopped dead in her tracks to jab Bellamy's chest with her index finger. 

"I didn't ask you to come looking for me! I left to get away from everyone, I didn't want you to follow me!"

"You were running away from hallucinations when we found you!"

Octavia shook her head, rolling her eyes at Lincoln and threading her fingers through his. He smiled and pressed his lips to her temple, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. She sighed and rested her head on his arm, still watching the battle that waged on before them. They loved each other, of that Octavia was sure. She had assumed as much almost right from the start, but ever since Clarke had thrown herself into his arms after she escaped the mountain, Octavia knew for certain. It was in Bellamy's eyes as he stood with his arms crossed while a red faced Clarke shouted at him.

"So why are you the only one fighting with me then? If they're so set on me going back, then how come Octavia isn't yelling at me?" Clarke fired at him. "Why hasn't Lincoln thrown me over his shoulder and just carried me?"

Bellamy chuckled and rubbed his face. "You don't ever listen to Octavia. Jesus Clarke! You're coming home with us."

Clarke glowered at Octavia's older brother for a long time before folding her arms over her chest and tilting her chin up defiantly. "Since I don't take orders from you, I'm gonna need a better reason."

Octavia snorted, turning her head away when the two of them shot her deadly glares; beside her, Lincoln was chuckling under his breath. There was a long silence, and Octavia thought that Bellamy had given in, when she heard him sigh.

"You have to come back with me." He said quietly. "Clarke I...I need you."

Octavia watched in shock as Clarke's eyes widened slightly. Everyone seemed to be at a loss for words, and Octavia didn't want to ruin the moment in case the two of them finally decided to confess their feelings for each other. Her eyes flickered back and forth between a stunned looking Clarke and a desperate, nervous looking Bellamy.

"That's not fair." Clarke finally whispered, closing her eyes.

Bellamy let out a breath, that sounded kind of like a laugh and he shrugged. "It's all I've got." 

Not able to contain it any longer, Octavia groaned and tilted her head towards the sky. 

"Seriously?" She muttered under her breath, causing another chuckle to escape Lincoln's mouth.


	15. Clarke

Bellamy's words bounced around in her head for the rest of the journey, as Clarke followed the others back to Camp Jaha. He hadn't been fair in using her words like that, looking at her the way he had...like he really did need her. Clarke remained a few paces behind everyone, careful not to draw attention to herself. The closer they got to camp, the heavier her heart became until it felt like a thousand pound weight was about to crush her chest. She took a few more steps, then came to a halting stop, gulping down air. Clarke could feel Fox standing behind her, could hear the whispering in her ear. Camp Jaha was just barely visible through the trees, but the sight had Clarke's head spinning, her heart pounding in a broken rhythm making it difficult to breath. It was the rush of air leaving her lungs as her knees hit the ground that caused Bellamy to turn around; she wished he hadn't heard her.

"Clarke?" He said slowly, meeting her eyes.

Clarke looked away quickly, biting her lip until she tasted blood. She drew in several shaky breaths before she was able to speak. "I can't. I thought that maybe I'd be able to do it, but I can't Bellamy."

"Clarke you're being ridiculous! Stop acting like a princess and let's go home please." Octavia snapped, clearly irritated.

Hearing her old nickname caused Clarke to flinch as her heart thudded painfully. "I'm sorry."

She heard Bellamy sigh and tell his sister to head back to camp with Lincoln, then he knelt down beside her. Much to Clarke's surprise, Bellamy didn't say a word; he simply sat there with her and stared off into the trees. It hurt to look at him, but Clarke did it anyway, taking in his features with tired eyes. He was thinking, probably about how he could convince her to return to camp with him, but from the look in his dark eyes, she knew he realized that he couldn't convince her. It was a step she had to take by herself. After a long silence, Bellamy pursed his lips and dipped his head, slowly getting to his feet. 

"Look, I know you're not ready to face them...I get it. You're still trying to get yourself back together, to see something that doesn't make you flinch when you look at your reflection, trust me I know what that's like. I know what it does to you, feeling like a monster. And I thought that I would have to face that alone, fight that demon alone...You saw me. I was done, quitting, but you told me that we would figure it out together. You didn't let me go through it alone; I came back home because you said that you needed me. Please do that for me."

"Bellamy-" Clarke began but Bellamy held up a hand to silence her.

"I'm asking you to come home with me, because I need you. I can't do this without you, and I'm not going to let you suffer alone and torture yourself. We'll get through this together, like we always do." He finished, voice soft and tired.

Bellamy ran a hand over his face and drew in a deep breath before looking down at her with hope burning in his beautiful brown eyes.

Clarke wanted to scream at him for manipulating her like that, for using her words against her, yet she couldn't bring herself to do it. He was right; they would figure it out together, like they did when Bellamy had needed her. She nodded her head and stood up on shaky legs, meeting Bellamy's eyes. Clarke cast a glance over her shoulder at the army of ghosts that lingered just out of reach. They stared back at her, waiting for her to return to them so they could consume her once and for all.

“Okay.” She whispered, turning to face the man beside her. “Let’s go.”


End file.
